


Tithe

by MistressKat



Category: Bandom, Panic! at the Disco
Genre: Alternate Universe - Creatures & Monsters, Alternate Universe - Fae, Ficlet, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-05
Updated: 2020-07-05
Packaged: 2021-03-04 22:13:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 618
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25093675
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MistressKat/pseuds/MistressKat
Summary: The chittering started half an hour across the border, where trees grew old and twisted, and the roots snagged hungrily at his feet. Spencer was used to it now, knew to expect the slow blink of glowing eyes, there and gone between the thorny bushes.
Relationships: Ryan Ross/Spencer Smith/Brendon Urie/Jon Walker
Comments: 5
Kudos: 5





	Tithe

**Author's Note:**

> Written for prompt where the first line had to be "The scariest creatures lived deep in the forest where no one ever went."

The scariest creatures lived deep in the forest where no one ever went. 

Except Spencer, who was paid to do so by the surrounding villages. Someone had to be the Keeper, the Guard, the One Who Walked in the Darkness. And, if his luck held out, walked back out again. 

The chittering started half an hour across the border, where trees grew old and twisted, and the roots snagged hungrily at his feet. Spencer was used to it now, knew to expect the slow blink of glowing eyes, there and gone between the thorny bushes. 

It was Jon who was waiting for him, as usual, his face friendly and open and so human looking he could almost fool you if he wanted to. 

“Friend Spencer,” he said, tilting his head to the side as he smiled. His teeth were very white and blunt, and he was sitting cross-legged on the ground. Spencer didn’t know why he still bothered; it wasn’t like it made him seem any less threatening. 

Maybe it just amused him, this little game of pretend. 

“This month’s tithe,” Spencer said, putting his sack down. 

“Smells like meat.” Jon sniffed, leaning closer. 

There was a sound, just a light rustle of leaves, as somewhere behind Spencer, Brendon dropped down from the trees. Spencer didn’t flinch, but only because this wasn’t his first, or even his tenth visit. 

“Smells like dinner.” Brendon’s voice was beautiful, lilting and bright like the summer morning. “But whatever is in that bag is good too,” he added, laughing. A light touch of fingers – cool like a mountain spring – trailed over the back of Spencer’s neck. 

“They are so kind to us,” Jon said, mockingly, already rummaging through the goods. He tossed a cured lamb leg at Brendon before tearing into another one himself. 

“They are so afraid.” Brendon licked at the bone still attached to the meat, all the while maintaining eye contact with Spencer. His pupils were slitted, like a cat’s and there was no emotion behind them. Except maybe amusement. 

“This one isn’t.”

Now Spencer jumped, whipping around on instinct. 

Ryan was standing a few meters away, just watching. Unlike the others, he never touched the gifts, the bribe, when Spencer was still there to see. Maybe he never did, maybe he just didn’t need to eat. 

Or maybe, what he ate wasn’t food at all. 

Unlike the Jon and Brendon, Ryan would never pass for a human, not even in the dark. 

_Especially_ not in the dark, where the shadows wrapped themselves around him like the finest silk clothing, where the moon reflected of his eyes, turning them into twin pools of silver. His claws were long and curved, and his gait sinuous. Nauseatingly so. 

“Do you know why, Guard?”

Spencer swallowed. “Why what?”

“Why you aren’t afraid?” Ryan took a step closer, and Spencer shivered. But Ryan was right, it wasn’t because he was scared. 

“Why’s that?” he asked. Behind him, he could sense Jon and Spencer abandon their dinner, moving closer too, circling him. Spencer’s heart was beating fast, but strong, steady. Jon hummed thoughtfully; a low resonant sound that made every hair at the back of Spencer’s neck stand up.

“Because he isn’t one of them at all, is he?” Brendon said, and there was delight in his voice, a new kind of intent to this touch as he pressed against Spencer’s back. 

“No, he isn’t,” Ryan said. His breath smelled sweet, like rotting leaves and spring sap all rolled into one. “He’s one of us.”

The sound escaping Spencer’s mouth was somewhere between a growl and a scream; inhuman, desperate but without fear. He pushed it into Ryan’s mouth like a sacrifice, joyfully made.


End file.
